Thoughts through Christmas

Why did the crucial questions fail to sound-off?
Was the fear of disrupting joyous reminiscence by injecting a bit of religiousity so great?
Or was it just an inner dread; a refusal toward being type-cast(to a namesake) that kept my lips open; but inarticulate.

Why do I not sense that urgency from God's children within? Is it just me thinking too idealistically? Or is there something I've been called-to that's causing me this distress.
Yet I know not how else to shepherd a worldly people except to continue being their friend.
My heart glows at a friend's mention of his parent's involvement with ministry. And it lights up with the mention that that was his old church. But I faltered in my thoughts and missed the invitation-opportunity at the turn of the topic. Forgive me.

Sorrow's Acquaintance

being wordless in nature, in a world of ceaseless speech
something comes to mind, but doesn't leave their lips
they're seldom heard; and hardly asked to be
watching from afar; safe from mockery?
where quiet means a sense of dignity
and pleading the Maker's respite;
is the soul's only delight
seeking refuge in
solitary tailspin.